The Starks Trilogy (Book 1 & 2)

by Nesly Clerge

  “Do whatever you have to, to keep me here for several days, probably at least four more days. Find a reason. And get me a burner phone with a couple hours on it. Get it to me by this evening. For now, give me your phone and step out of the room. What you don’t know can’t bite you later.”

  “I’m only asking in case I get paged, but how long will—”

  “Not long. I’ll knock on the door when I’m done.”

  Garrett handed Starks his phone then left the room.

  It took four tries to key in the number.

  CHAPTER 35

  THE PHONE RANG three times before Jim Rogers answered and said, “Garrett Hall? Do I know you?”

  “It’s Starks.”

  “How’d you get this phone?”

  “Borrowed it. I’ll be calling you from a burner starting tonight. There’s something urgent I need you to do. There’s a huge bonus for you, and I need you to act fast and not get caught.”

  “Aw crap. Let’s hear it.”

  “I need you to get DNA samples of my three children… and Jeffrey’s.”

  “What the fuck, Starks?”

  “Get the samples as soon as you can. The big question is this: can you get the samples to a lab that will test the DNA immediately and keep quiet?”

  “I know a guy. He’ll do it, for a price. Rush is extra.”

  “Pay him. I’ll check in with you tonight, once I have the new phone. If you need me to advance funds, I’ll call Parker.”

  “I should be able to cover any upfront costs.”

  “Good. Any questions?”

  “No.”

  “Not even why I’m doing this?”

  “Pretty damn obvious. Damn, Starks. Jeffrey? Does the shit ever stop with that woman?”

  “Probably not until she’s dead. But right now, I feel like I’m suffocating under a pile of it.”

  “I hear you. One thing: I need your DNA.”

  “Get some from my house. Do it in a way that Emma never knows you were there.”

  “This may take a few days.”

  “Make it faster. Time’s squeezing in on me. I know what I’m asking, but I also know what you’re capable of.”

  Jim let out a sigh. “I’m on it.”

  Starks disengaged the call and dragged himself to the door. He knocked and handed the phone to Garrett. “Except for meals, if I can even eat, and when you bring me the phone, I’d like to be left alone as much as possible, at least for a while.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t.”

  Starks closed the door and returned to the window, where he stood staring at the gray void of sky.

  Emotions competed for his attention. Devastation was one of them. What if Blake wasn’t his son? He’d cherished the boy since he was in the womb. Was it possible to cut off all love for a child if you discovered he wasn’t yours? And if it was true, what would this do to Blake? It crushed him to think about it. The fact that he was concerned about this had to be a clear indication of his love for the boy. Didn’t it? After all, people adopted babies and loved them as their own.

  But they knew the truth.

  If Blake turned out not to be his, whose was he?

  Starks strained to recall every feature of Blake’s face to search for any similarity to Jeffrey, as well as to himself or anyone in his family. But his mind was in too much turmoil. He couldn’t trust it to be accurate.

  Are any of the children I’ve loved and cared for mine?

  He rushed to the toilet and vomited. He rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on his face then lay curled up on the bed. Tremors wracked his body.

  “Damn you, Kayla.” Tears streamed from his eyes. “How much more are you going to take from me, you selfish bitch?”

  Maybe this was his punishment for living his life the way he had, the way his grandfather and uncles had told him was his right as a man.

  What if his only natural child had been Kyle?

  Starks buried his face in the pillow and wept.

  CHAPTER 36

  HE COULDN’T TOUCH his lunch. When Starks’s dinner tray was delivered just after five, he forced himself to eat every bite, reminding himself that keeping his strength up was vital.

  He got out of bed and stood at the window. He paced, washed his face, paced some more, returned to the window, noting the sun now caused long shadows on the ground seven stories below.

  Garrett knocked as he opened the door. He reached into his pants pocket and handed a cell phone to Starks. “I put twenty hours on it. Think that’ll be enough?”

  “More than enough. Thanks.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  “I’ve had some rough moments. Appreciate you keeping the interruptions down.”

  “It was okay for those several hours, especially after a shock, but that has to change. I need your vitals checked and so forth.”

  “Do what you have to.”

  “I’m concerned about how this is affecting you. Any problem with a headache or any other symptom?”

  “Surprisingly, no. At least not yet. But that may be because I lost my breakfast. Maybe that got some of the poison out of my system.”

  “Maybe. But if a headache starts, buzz for a nurse. I’ll leave instructions about what to give you for it. I’ve got to get going. One last thing: I know it sounds trite to say this, all things considered, but try to keep the stress down.”

  Starks laughed without humor. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Maybe a mild sedative would—”

  “No. Thanks. I want to stay sharp.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Try to get some rest. I’ll leave instructions about something to help you sleep, in case you change your mind.”

  “Again, thanks. For everything.”

  As soon as the door closed, Starks called Jim Rogers. “Just got the phone. Please answer as quickly as possible whenever I call.”

  “Aren’t you being reckless having a phone in prison?”

  “I’m at Grace for tests. I’ll be here a few days.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Any progress?”

  “So far I got samples of your DNA and the kids’. I’m pretty sure I can get Jeffrey’s later this evening. For whatever reason, he’s been home all day.”

  “How’re you doing this?”

  “You really need details?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Let’s just say I’m grateful for rubber gloves.”

  Starks sat on the edge of the bed and was silent.

  “Starks? You still there?”

  “Still here.”

  “I hope this turns out well for you, buddy.”

  “How well it turns out is relative at this point.”

  “Literally.”

  “Once you have Jeffrey’s sample, how long before you can get everything to your guy?”

  “He’s on call. Because it’s more than two samples, he needs to do it after hours. But he’s ready. He’s got a new girlfriend he’s trying to impress. The extra money is already burning a hole in his pocket.”

  “Poor bastard. All right. I’ll check in with you tomorrow morning.”

  “Yep.”

  Starks dropped the phone onto the bed and his head into his hands. He’d have an answer soon.

  The thought terrified him.

  CHAPTER 37

  SEVERAL TIMES, STARKS came close to asking for something to help him sleep, but resisted. He regretted his decision in the morning.

  He dragged himself to the shower hoping cold water would help him stay awake. Breakfast was as good as before, but Starks was on automatic as he ate.

  Jim should have gotten the samples to his lab guy the night before. Eager for an update, Starks pulled the phone from under his mattress. The door clicked open. He slid the phone back into its hiding place.

  Garrett Hall came in. “Those twisted sheets and the way you look tell me you didn’t sleep well, if at all. You should have asked for somethin
g.” Garrett listened to Starks’s heart and took his pulse. He checked Starks’s nails and lower eyelids.

  “I’ll sleep later. What are you doing?”

  “Confirming my decision to give you a blood transfusion today.”

  Starks stood up. “That wasn’t the plan.”

  “You need one sooner than later. The results of the second blood test, your heart rate, the pale color of your nails, et cetera, are all signs telling me to move quicker. I know I said stress can cause headaches, but anemia, which you have, can cause them, as well as insomnia, dizziness, anxiety—symptoms you also have, plus a host of other symptoms you don’t want, including hair loss; though, yours,” he grinned as he glanced at Starks’s head, “was obviously deliberate.”

  Starks didn’t respond to the humor. “I’d rather wait.”

  “I know. But I need to take care of this anemia situation now so it doesn’t get any worse and create more serious problems for you. As for the blood to use,” Garrett’s cheeks reddened, “when I saw the test results this morning, I took the liberty of having them check for a donor match from what we have stored.”

  “When?”

  “I’m waiting for someone to come for you now. I’m going with you so I can check how you’re doing during and after. It’ll take an hour or more for the transfusion, probably two. Afterwards, I want you to rest and not exert yourself for forty-eight hours, even though you should start feeling better within twenty-four. If you don’t, I’ll know to do more extensive tests.”

  Two burly male nurses entered with a wheelchair. They scowled at Starks and adjusted their postures into no-nonsense stances.

  “Shift your attitudes,” Garrett told them. “Your assumption about this man is wrong. He’s a longtime friend of mine.” At the surprised expressions they wore, he added, “Despite how he’s altered his appearance, and what misinformed people decided, he’s not a criminal. Plus, I’m tagging along. You’re safe.”

  Everything happened so fast, it wasn’t until the sting from the I.V. port inserted into his left arm that Starks remembered he was waiting for information he was both anxious to get and dreaded.

  CHAPTER 38

  HIS BEDDING HAD been changed in his absence. Starks raced to the side where he’d hidden the phone, felt under the mattress and couldn’t find it. He flipped the mattress onto the floor. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. He grabbed the buzzer to have Garrett paged and noticed the drawer on the small dresser next to his bed was open a quarter inch. Relief flooded through his body. Because the phone was there rather than removed. Because his possession of it hadn’t been reported. So far.

  Heart pumping hard, he dialed Jim’s number.

  Jim answered after one ring. “Starks. Finally.”

  “I couldn’t call until now. What’s the status?”

  “Had to wait on Jeffrey until the early hours. Seems he’s got insomnia or something.”

  “Must be going around.”

  “I got everything to my guy around seven thirty this morning. He’ll hang back after everyone leaves and get started. Takes about ten hours to run one profile, but they have enough equipment for him to do all of them tonight. We’re meeting over breakfast at six to go over the results.”

  Starks stood in the ray of sun streaming through the window. “Appreciate it, Jim.”

  “Sorry all this shit’s landing on you, buddy.”

  “You’ve seen the bumper sticker about that.”

  “Just seems you’re getting an unfair share of it.”

  “I’ll contact you in the morning.”

  Starks ended the call and stayed standing where he was. In less than twenty-four hours he’d know something about how much of what he’d believed about his family and life was a lie.

  First Kayla. Then Jeffrey. Now Blake and God knew who else. When it came to Kayla, anything was possible. His hatred of her had started to wane. That was over now. Rage overwhelmed him. Rage that had no moral, legal, or ethical outlet he could live with. The woman was a vampire. If given the chance, she’d drain him, chew on his bones, and look for more ways to take his soul piece by piece.

  He picked at his dinner, tossed and turned in bed, unable to settle down. At nine o’clock, he decided inner turmoil wasn’t the way to go so soon after the transfusion. He wouldn’t learn anything from Jim until morning. A sleeping pill was delivered ten minutes after his request. One night of peace wasn’t too much to ask. After all, he didn’t know when such an opportunity would happen again.

  It was twelve after ten when he checked the time on his phone before slipping it back under the pillow. He was asleep in moments.

  CHAPTER 39

  A SHAFT OF EARLY morning light filtered into the room. Starks stretched and yawned. He lay unmoving, too relaxed to open his eyes, and thought about what he’d ask Emma to prepare for his breakfast. He was famished. But he’d wait until the aroma of coffee lured him from bed; it felt too good where he was to move yet. Maybe he’d ask her to have breakfast in bed with him. Then he’d show her how deep his appreciation could go. He smiled wide at that thought and opened his eyes. Reality spiraled back to him, like water down a drain when the plug is pulled.

  Two sensations competed inside him: More energy from the transfusion and a high level of anxiety. All he had to do was get past this latest battle heading his way and then he’d figure out a way to live with what was and still win. His grandfather had told him if he wanted to pay others back for the harm they did to him, win and win big. “Don’t just survive, son—thrive! It’ll piss them off, but they’ll kowtow to you. They won’t be able to help themselves.” However, he couldn’t picture Queen-in-her-own-mind Kayla going down that path.

  He pulled the phone from under his pillow to check the time. Six thirty-three. At this moment, if all had gone according to plan, Jim and the lab guy were discussing one of the most crucial aspects of his life.

  Starks took the phone with him into the bathroom. The hot shower felt good but didn’t calm the emotions tugging at him. By six forty he was seated on his bed, watching the outside light change and wondering when he should call. Repeatedly, he checked the time on the phone. At five after seven, he dialed Jim’s number. It was time to get this over with.

  “I don’t know how much you know or don’t know, Starks, which means I don’t know how much the results might shock you.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Blake’s not yours.”

  Starks drew in a deep breath, held it then let it go. “What about Nathan and Kaitlin?”

  “Yours.”

  Starks cradled his head in his left hand. “Thank God.”

  “I take it you suspected this about Blake.”

  “What about Jeffrey? Did his DNA match… is he Blake’s father?”

  “I gotta say I’m stunned you thought he might be, but no.”

  “So, we don’t know who Blake’s father is.”

  “I do.”

  Starks leaped up. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re his father, the only one he’s ever had. Look, I can understand you might be feeling a lot about this. It’s the shit, far as I’m concerned.” When Starks stayed silent, Jim asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far. I’d hoped it was a mistake.”

  “Any suspicions about who the sperm donor may have been?”

  “Who the hell knows how many guys she was screwing then. She probably doesn’t know, either. In fact, it was pretty fucking charitable of her to let two of the kids be mine. That or it was insurance. She does stupid things, but she’s not actually stupid.”

  “Again, Starks, sorry.”

  “Put the results in your safe and keep them for me.”

  “Consider it done. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Reach me if you need me.”

  Starks lay back on the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. What was he going to do about Blake? What could he do? He hated the idea of Kayla believing
she got away with it, that is, if she even knew, herself. That was a question only she could answer, and he didn’t want to hear her lies, even though he had proof. If she didn’t know, the truth would stick it to her in a profound way. If he told her or anyone in his family, even if they didn’t mean it to happen, the news could too easily get back to Blake.

  Jim had called Blake’s biological father the sperm donor, removing anything personal and familial from the equation. Was he right?

  When he’d first heard he was going to be a father, he’d been nervous and thrilled and proud. He’d watched Kayla’s belly swell with the child he thought was his. It was easy to recall how he felt when Blake took his first breath and made his displeasure loud and clear about being squeezed out of his warm cocoon. The first time he held the boy in his arms and said, “Hello, Blake. I’m your daddy.” The first time that remarkably tiny hand wrapped around one of his fingers and wouldn’t let go. The first smile. How the boy’s eyes lit up and his whole body was animated with excitement when Starks came into the room. The moment “Da-da” was spoken for the first time, more like a beam of bright light than a sound. Each of these moments, and so many more, had shattered him in profoundly joyful ways then glued him back together again, stronger than he’d been before.

  How would he feel the next time he saw Blake? Could he look at the boy in the same way, feel him with the same heart? He imagined Blake looking back at him, talking to him—“Dad, Dad! Wait till I tell you—”

  It wasn’t just about the financial responsibility a person incurred for a child, or that they shared the same address and used the same last name. It was the moments that couldn’t be purchased, only exchanged with the currency of love. Blake was his son in every way but blood.

  He decided it would take a medical emergency to force the truth from him.

  If Kayla thought she’d put something over on him, that couldn’t matter. Sure, there would probably be times when the fact angered him, but he could and would put Blake first.

  What if she was waiting for the right moment, in her self-absorbed way, to tell this fact to him so she could crush him even more? His foremost thought was to protect Blake. Kayla could go fuck herself and anyone else she wanted to.